


familiar stranger

by spookysp_ace (summermoonsdawn)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Finished, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, They're figuring it out, YOU SEE THAT, but i've decided i never want to write angst again, happy ending I promise, hnnnn the characters in the tags are indeed who you think, i'm not sure what the scale of angst is, marine biologist daichi, part 2: angst, part 3: fluff yay, photographer kuroo, previously called "sunrise/sunset"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summermoonsdawn/pseuds/spookysp_ace
Summary: It's been a little over four years since Kuroo last saw one Sawamura Daichi.What are the chances the universe would have them meet again thousands of miles away from Japan?Quite high, when you think about how often the universe has fucked them over.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 19
Kudos: 119





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> it is i, Bek, once again. but with a much smaller work this time (sorry).
> 
> but i needed to feel like i can complete a smaller fic without the stress and pressure of the massive ones i am writing/planning. and i did this as a part of this "2 random words challenge" i'm giving myself, of which the words are noted at the beginning.
> 
> plis enjoy this baby fic.

2 words -  
suntan + rise

At the time, the offer to take marine photos for a science magazine had been great. amazing even.

They’d paid him in advance after his last photo series he’d done for the magazine, and akaashi had put in a good word as one of their lead traveling photographers.

Plus, he was going to swim with sharks. Or at least see them. There were at least 28 different species of sharks around the islands, and based off of some reading, the hammerhead sharks were around the islands all year.

There was a slight problem, one bigger than the sharks—if you could believe it. The Galápagos islands were one of the peak diving spots for marine life. It was a place of widespread studies, research with sharks, whales, seals, and coral reefs, diving there was a dream for most; meaning plenty of biologist, marine and otherwise around. And there, for one chemist turned photographer, is the issue.

The guide he’d met after bringing him off the plane from Ecuador to San Cristobal was currently walking with him down one of the piers at port, towards the boat of the marine biologist he’d be staying with for two weeks.

Has he mentioned the two week part? He’d be traveling with said marine biologist and a team of divers across the islands, taking as many photos that he could of them doing their job.

Looking around, Kuroo let the sea breeze wash over his face and push some of the exhaustion out of his body from the three different flights, two boats he’d been on, a layover in Hawaii and the one hotel night in Ecuador. the cool air was refreshing, as the sun was dipping close to the horizon. He tugged his duffel bag further up his shoulder but gripped the camera bag and equipment tight in his hands. 

“The team from the research center was out on the waters today, that’s why we are meeting them here,” the guide said in English as they continued past some shops towards the marina. “And one will be housing you. You will likely have to travel on a boat again to go with them to the center.”

Kuroo blinked at him, taking in the words before gazing back to all the boats. Great.

“Oh! There they are!” he said, pointing towards the boat coming closer. “The one you are staying with is here on research from Japan, that’s why you’ll be housing with him. I’m sure your people mentioned that.”

Akaashi hadn’t said a damn thing about it. And neither had their boss.

Kuroo looked towards the boat pulling towards the pier, the sun catching behind it created silhouettes of the people on board. He heard a mixture of voices, but his eyes glued immediately to the person getting off first.

The man had jumped off from the boat to the pier, sturdy feet landing on dark lined wood. a white t-shirt that would have been loose on anyone else tugged on the man’s wide shoulders and sank with his defined chest and waist. Skin warm and golden with a suntan and deep brown hair, familiar eyes turned towards Kuroo—

 _Fuck_.

Aged by at least four years, Sawamura Daichi could still take Kuroo’s breath away, give him a heart attack, and simultaneously stop the world from spinning in the same moment. The rise of memories brought on my one Sawamura was instantaneous—their high-school meeting of fate as rival volleyball players, attending the same university; and that one time they found a kitten in a box, as they ran back to their dorm in pouring rain and afterwards tried to hide it in their room. Then falling, tumbling—

“I see you brought the photographer,” Sawamura said, voice deep, rumbling, like a slumbering volcano. Exactly how he remembered it.

 _“The marine biologist is from Japan.”_ The guide had said. 

Kuroo stares at Daichi. Could he still call him Daichi?

 _“He’s been there for four years on research—“_ his boss had mentioned offhandedly.

Daichi, here? This wasn’t some absolute dream or even a fantasy that Kuroo had concocted from a past he thought he’d gotten over?

_“He’ll be housing you for two weeks—“_

Well fuck.

Kuroo could only get himself to blink a couple times, as if jolting awake from a sleepless night. He took a deep breath, easing his features into a smirk and not the jaw-drop his insides were doing.

“No one was kind enough to tell me who my company would be with,” Kuroo said, reaching his hand towards Daichi.

The other man gave him a tight smile, and then squeezed Kuroo’s hand in his grip.

“Congratulations. You get my company for two weeks.”

Kuroo—mentally cursing his boss and Akaashi—knew then it wasn’t the sharks he was going to have to worry about.


	2. part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the part where they don't talk. and they don't talk again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm.... so sorry. this part was exhausting to do. and its not what it could be, but yk, it's here. this part alone was 10k, and i have 3.5k finished for the 3rd part. i promise the 3rd part will be finished a lot sooner, and will be happier :'))
> 
> this part was suppose to be for "day 3" of kurodai mdbday week, eh heh, with the prompt "travel" as well.... but you can tell that didn't happen.
> 
> IF it's been a while since you read part 1, i suggest rereading it? just as a refresher?? idk
> 
> once again, thank you Eli for dealing with my bs, and telling me to stop procrastinating. <3 you're amazing, i less than three you :"))
> 
> happy valentine's day??

_ she was a ship who’d never sailed _

_ with half a heart tied to the shore _

Towards the end of first year of university, now over seven years ago, there was a kitten left in a box. The two of them had been caught in the rain while heading back to their dorms from the library. They only had two more weeks left of the semester, and by that point Kuroo wasn’t sure how he hadn’t dropped dead. Not just because of classes. But because everyday he got to spend it with Sawamura. That should have been enough to mess with anyone’s heart.

The skies that day had been clear, open and inviting to the sun, and the forecast had called for only light showers. In the three hours they’d spent at the library clouds had gathered, dark and foreboding.

“Sa’amura, you wouldn’t happen to have an umbrella would you?” Kuroo asked as they stood outside the library, watching the sky with a sense of dread.

Sawamura sent a heavy glare to the skies, but gave Kuroo a wiry smile. “Nope. Want to make a run for it?”

In only a few minutes the downpour came and overwhelmed the concrete with wet tears, sending students, business workers, and casual walkers to seek the closest shelter. 

They’d stopped underneath the awning of a closed shop, hoping for the rain to let up, when Kuroo heard the distinct sound of cat meowing—tiny little mews almost drowned out by the pounding of rain on the streets. 

“Hey, do you hear that?”

“Depends. I don’t have that cat-like hearing you seem to possess.”

“Har har har, very funny,” Kuroo said, as he glanced around the street and then towards the alley close by. 

Daichi came closer to him, looking in the same direction. “It’s a cat,” he said.

They only briefly looked at the sky and the profuse tears it was placing on the ground, before they made a quick run down the alley. In a box, drenched and crying, next to a dumpster, was a small tabby colored kitten.

“Sawamura–” Kuroo started.

“Put it under your shirt, and we’ll take it to the dorm.”

Kuroo looked up at Daichi, through the pouring rain, and wondered for the briefest of moments when the other man had learned to know exactly what Kuroo was thinking. Or at the very least, when Kuroo had realized that they would always somehow be in sync with one another.

With a quick nod, they gathered the kitten, wrapped it in the jacket that Daichi had in his backpack, and hurried down the streets.

They only had a couple weeks left in the dorms anyways with finals dawning, and most of the friends they knew in the dorms weren’t snitches. Those like Bokuto, Oikawa, and Kita were more than happy to help. In the couple weeks they’d had the kitten they named it Miki, for “beautiful hope,” and she had somehow become the mascot amongst all the students that were staying there. When finals became too heavy, or someone needed a break, they knew they could knock on Daichi and Kuroo’s door for some very necessary kitten de-stress time.

For summer break, Daichi took the kitten to his grandmother’s, where she would hopefully stay after some convincing from Daichi. One skype video with Kuroo and Daichi’s grandmother, and she eagerly accepted the kitten as her own.

That same summer, while Daichi was visiting his aunt who lived in Ogasawara, he’d called. “Thank you,” Daichi had said into the phone.

Kuroo, who was back at home in the outskirts of the Tokyo city limits, was in his room searching through packed boxes for this one shirt. The blue one, with a fish on the front that said  _ shark bait, hoo ha ha. _ “For what?” he blinked, thinking on whether he’d missed anything from their previous conversation.

“My obaasan. She really loves Miki, and probably needed her since the twins are away at school all day.”

Kuroo smiled into the phone, thinking about Daichi’s obaasan. She was a loving older woman who had taken both Daichi and his younger twin sisters–Ryuki and Asumi–in after their mother had died a few years ago. In Daichi’s own words, their father wasn’t in the picture, and hadn’t had plans on coming back after their mother had died. But Sawamura Kuma had taken them in and raised them, and continued to raise them. Kuroo had the pleasure of skyping with Daichi a couple times while his grandmother was around. She’d always pop in and say hello. Even before she’d taken the kitten, Daichi would talk with her frequently while they were at school in the dorms. Kuroo had probably talked to her as much as his own father.

Kuroo closed one of the boxes he was looking in–and really, where the fuck was the shirt?–and gave a soft laugh. “Do you really think my dad would have let us have more cats? With the three we have?”

“Don’t forget about Kenma’s,” said Daichi with a chuckle.

“Of course! I couldn’t forget about Kenma’s. Or the strays my dad keeps feeding.”

There were way too many cats for him to keep track of, but he was happy to be considered Miki’s godfather of sorts. “As long as you and obaasan send me pictures, consider yourself safe.”

“Safe from what? Yourself? You aren’t very threatening, Kuroo.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue, “Looking down on your rival is never a good idea.”

“We’re on the same team now,” Daichi said. “Besides, you’d never be able to take Miki away from obaasan. She’d give you a fit and a half for it.”

Kuroo was silent for a minute, thinking of a disappointed obaasan’s face. “You’re right. Please take me out yourself if I ever hurt her feelings.”

“Take you out like on a date or out of existence?”

Kuroo sputtered, clutching his chest and the shirt covering it for a minute. “I–well, you know. Uh, whatever works at the time, and whatever punishment you seem fit. For disappointing your grandmother and such.”

Kuroo’s heart was pounding loudly in his ears–a volcano of heat on his neck and cheeks, waiting to burst and overflow.

On the other line Daichi had hummed, seeming pleased with himself. “Going out with you wouldn’t be punishment.”

  
  


_ the other to an anchor _

_ to drown it’s hopes of having more, _

  
  


Kuroo now watched the other man, because yes–he was definitely a man now. There wasn’t a doubt in the world about it. Daichi had always carried himself with a sense of self worth and an effortless pride that was neither egotistic or gloating. His head was held high, with shoulders large enough to carry the weight of the world. And those eyes.

Eyes that hadn’t given Kuroo a single glance since he’d stepped off the boat, after shaking hands again with an unyielding grip. He’d spoken quick words to the guide who’d walked Kuroo there, but then turned his shoulder away. He moved to talk with some of the other crew members as they got some of their equipment from the boat, and Kuroo wished he’d listened to the words that were being said but Daichi’s voice-–he hadn’t heard that mellow rumble in four years. 

It was soft and soothing but commanding and confident. It was the sun’s rays wrapped in thunderheads. He sounded somehow still like the captain of a crow’s team, and the once captain of their university volleyball team, but that same voice–had changed. A somber resolution sat beneath the sound. Now here he was, more broad shouldered, hair a touch shorter in the back but longer and pushed back on top; and skin bronzed from days and months out in the golden sun.

“If you have any questions,” the guide said to him, “you should relay those to the team here. Cell reception is not all that great, but they will provide you with whatever accommodations you may need.”

Kuroo eyed the guide for only half a second, before sending a curt nod. He gripped the bags on his shoulder, opening his mouth to say something, to anyone but voices coming off the boat cut him off.

“Now, now,” one started, teasing, in clear Japanese, “maybe you shouldn’t have poked it. You wouldn’t be bleeding after all.”

“ _ You! _ The next time we’re out on the water, I’m going to throw you overboard,” another growled out.

The last one sounded tired, but not impressed, “You keep saying that. But here we are, and you’re both still standing.”

He whipped his head to others coming off the boat. Three people standing there, all either standing around or taller than 180 centimeters. The first one was bespectacled, chestnut haired, and donned a black compression shirt that pulled over muscled shoulders. He also wore knee shorts, and an obnoxiously yellow colored pair of flip-flops. He had a guileful smile on his face that was aimed to the tallest of the three. 

The taller of them looked as if he was about to pull a punch, still growling and mumbling incoherent words. He had similar clothing to Daichi on with a loose t-shirt, another pair of shorts, and sneakers. He had blonde hair that looked darker towards the bottom that he began to run a hand through.

With pale blonde hair that could have almost been grey, and tips dyed umber, the last one stood watching the others with lips pinched tightly. Truly, if Kuroo thought the bright yellow shoes were the worst fashion mistake he’d ever seen, it was immediately put to rest as soon as his eyes landed on the brightest fucking pink shirt the universe had created. Said person was wearing the most hideous shirt he could have laid eyes on.

“What the fuck,” Kuroo said, without much filter. Forget sharks, forget the warm weather washing over his system, and forget Daichi for just a moment, because  _ goddamn  _ that shirt was a nightmare.

The three of them swiveled towards him. An array of emotions crossed each of their faces, but Daichi came back over before they could voice any of their thoughts.

“Guys,” Daichi said, hands being placed sternly on his hips. “I’ll throw each of you over the boat myself if you don’t help take equipment to the cars. The ferry leaves in 30 minutes, so hurry up.”

All three of them turned to Daichi, mumbling a little bit as they went, but nonetheless doing what he asked. The man finally looked back at Kuroo, examining his expression with a gaze that was both foreign and familiar to Kuroo. Upon closer inspection, Kuroo found a line of sun painted freckles across the other’s nose, embedded there likely by hours and days under rays of sunshine.

Daichi sighed, glancing to Kuroo’s belongings. “Let me help you with these. When we get loaded up I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“I can–” Kuroo started, but Daichi didn’t listen–and when had he ever? Kuroo couldn’t remember but a few times in their life where Daichi  _ wasn’t  _ stubborn and mulish. He gathered a couple of the bags and headed off down the dock back to port.

“So you’re Kuroo Tetsurou,” a voice said from over his shoulder. Kuroo found the man in glasses studying him with an unnerving look. “You ever been to the Galapagos before?”

“No, this would be a first.”

The other man sent him a menacious grin, laced in something almost poisonous. “Be careful of the sharks, some of them aren’t as friendly as others.” And that was all he said before going to help the other people carry things from the boat.

Kuroo walked after them, a headache growing at the forefront of his thoughts.  _ Fuck me. _

  
  


_ but still the waves washed in the whispers  _

_ of a world beyond the beach, _

  
  


There were more research members than Kuroo could remember the names of. Daichi had informed him, as they loaded into the couple of vehicles, that they all worked with the marine life center close to Puerto Ayora. After the 30 minute or so ferry ride they would still have a two hour drive ahead of them.

Kuroo’s things had been loaded into the back, as well as the rest of the research equipment divided between the two vehicles, white jeep wranglers dusted from wheel carved roads.

“Kuroo,” Daichi called, voice ungiving. “You can take the passenger seat. You three can take the back.”

The man walked away to talk with the researchers getting into the other vehicle, allowing Kuroo and the others to get the jeep. Kuroo had questions floating all around his head, too many, like  _ why are you here? Where have you been? Your hard work took you here, or you took your work with you? This is where life took you after– _

“You’re Kuroo?”

He turned over his shoulder to see the one with hair dip dyed. With the strange pink shirt in addition, the man looked like he should have been a part of an indie-punk band.

“That’s what people keep asking,” Kuroo responded.

The other man raised a single pale eyebrow, before giving a brief sound of acknowledgment. He turned away, towards the jeep without another word.

Kuroo was beginning to get the feeling that everyone here knew him, when he had no fucking clue who anyone but one person was. That single person wasn’t giving him the time of day either, and probably wouldn’t for a while. 

The drive across the canal, and the ferry ride, was doused in a thick silence. Next to him in the driver’s seat, Daichi had pushed dark sunglasses over his eyes. He leaned one arm outside of the jeep, but the other hand was wrapped around the steering wheel, two fingers tapping away at the leather underneath. Kuroo turned away from the man’s profile, refusing to say anything with the gaze of three other people on them from the backseat. He looked out at the scenery, the Itabaca channel underneath the ferry, to the green and blue waters breeding hundreds of other colors. 

He suddenly wished he hadn’t put his camera in the back with his other things. Instead, he clutched the leather of a necklace hiding under his shirt. Beneath, he could feel the smooth texture of an old shell hanging from the leather and tucked under his shirt and above his breastbone.

The rest of the ride was quiet, say for the roaring in Kuroo’s ears to bleed into the sound of tires rolling over road and dirt.

* * * * *

Daichi hadn’t seen Kuroo Tetsurou in four years. 

“Ah,” Daichi started, after they’d parked the jeep, just off the sign that read  _ Puerto Ayora Marine Center.  _ “This is the center. When we get to the main facility, I have to talk to the director and head researcher, but after we can get you settled and show you around. Is that okay? I’m sure you’re exhausted from the plane rides.”

The last time he saw him, in person, had been after he’d waved goodbye and Daichi hopped onto a train from Tokyo to Miyagi. Their contact after that had been spotty at best, until it was nothing, as if one of the fates had come and cut the line tying them together. The fates had followed the act by refusing to let them in on each other’s lives until now but–

_ Why now?  _ Daichi wondered, searching the profile of the other man, waiting for his response. 

Kuroo’s gaze turned on Daichi, gold like honey and the nectar of gods, but they were guarded by layers of possible uncertainty. 

The taller man nodded. “Whatever’s easiest.”

Daichi couldn’t decide if that was the answer he’d given because he  _ did  _ want to make things easier–because that’s how he’d always been when they were together–or if it was because he wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible.

After they had taken luggage and bags out of the car, Daichi turned back to Kuroo who seemed to be gazing around the research center in something akin to awe. The other man startled when Daichi said he had to go inside to talk to the director, then told Kuroo he could either stay outside and wander around the welcome area.

While he left with his small group of researchers–Semi Eita, Miyuki Kazuya, and Kamasaki Yasushi–but as he turned his back, there was a heavy weight of gold eyes settled on him until he disappeared indoors.

The conversation with the director hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped either. They went in to discuss heading out on the water for their research expedition, expecting to be out for a couple weeks. The director, Dr. Thresa Azevedo, had looked grim as the four of them entered her office. The co-director sitting next to her hadn’t looked better either.

On their weather radar a large storm had appeared over Ecuador and Peru, heading in the direction of the Galapagos islands. And it would be there within the next few days, give or take.

“I’m limiting you to three days on the water,” Thresa spoke, voice low. “The sooner you leave, the better. We can get the team ready and have you out tonight or early tomorrow morning. I know the young man is here from that magazine, but your safety is far more important to me. They’ll have to settle with me if the images he comes back with aren’t worthy enough for them.”

And that was that. Thresa gave Daichi a firm look, then pointed an even narrower look towards the others. She let them leave with a wave of her fingers, preparing to call their weather center again for an update. 

Kamasaki groaned about the storm, while Semi shrugged saying there was nothing they could do about it. Daichi thought he heard Miyuki make a quip about Kamasaki just being too sensitive for the rain. Their back and forth wore into Daichi’s bones as he thought about what to do with the weather, how they were going to squeeze two weeks of possible research and expedition into three days–especially because the trip had been mostly formed around Kuroo’s own visit and–

_ Fuck. _ Kuroo was going to be there for two whole weeks. Daichi had hoped to use most of that time focused on research, but with the weather moving their schedule?

He gave a heavy sigh before he clapped his hands together, then pushed them back through his hair as they made their way through the cool building. 

Past informative signs and exhibits, the four travelled out of the research center and back into the sunlight. Clouds pulled the sun further into the sky, casting blessed shade on the ground. Just by the morning’s heat, Daichi could tell that the day was going to be one of the hotter ones. The heat was something he had found himself accomodating to quickly when he’d first moved. The humidity was similar to that of Tokyo when he’d lived there for university, and was almost comforting when he’d travelled straight from America to the islands. The difference though, was that the temperatures didn’t fluctuate too much. There weren’t days where the temperatures were overwhelmingly higher or lower than the day before. Even months in winter were warm with temperatures in the low to mid 20’s–celsius that is.

The heat reminded him of summers at home, in Miyagi, helping his grandmother with the garden she had in her backyard. It reminded him, constantly, of his younger twin sisters helping their grandmother now while he was away. 

It reminded him of walking on a beach in Ogasawara, one summer, years ago.

“You gonna be okay?” Kamasaki asked from nearby.

Daichi blinked at the other man as they stood outside the main research building. He gave a hum in response before he turned his head away, placing his hands on his hips. Daichi let his eyes follow the crowd in search of Kuroo.

The man in question was tucked back behind the summer crowds of people walking about. He stood close to the viewpoint station, tall but shoulders a little hunched. There was a camera tucked in his hands like a safety net. The camera was pointed straight to the top of the viewpoints tip, up to the sky.

Kuroo’s hair was flying in the nearby ocean’s breeze.

Daichi pinched his lips a little to keep himself from smiling and remembering–

_ “Bedhead? How about beachhead.” _

_ A cackle, loud and soft all at once, reverberating past beach waves and sand–warm, and hot, and crackling like thunder against his skin, and tiny shell particles licking his toes with the ocean’s surf. _

_ “Mean, Sa’amura,” he’d drawled, leaning closer and– _

“So, we’ve got three days on the water only, huh?” Semi asked from nearby. He was looking to the sky, hand shading his eyes as the clouds moved out of sight. “Fuck.”

“No kidding,” Kamasaki agreed.

Daichi looked at each of them, their pensive and respectively thoughtful faces. “We do what we can for now. It’s not like we haven’t had bad weather before. For now, let me formally introduce you all to Kuroo.”

Together they followed Daichi to the man across the way. Kuroo turned upon hearing their steps.

“You all look like you’ve heard the worst news,” Kuroo said. He studied each of their faces with the kind of look that Daichi had first seen outside of a Miyagi gym–where two hands clasped around each other, inevitably sealing Daichi’s fate. Kuroo’s eyes were drawn to Daichi’s, curling over the other’s expression, “And maybe you have.”

“It looks like our time on the water is going to be shorter than we’d hoped. But we’re figuring something out,” Daichi said. “There’s a big storm that’s collecting over Ecuador and Peru that’ll be headed this direction in a few days. It’s already pretty bad, according to the directors, and will probably be worse by the time we’re settled back on land.”

He paused, seeing Kuroo’s concern grow on his features. “Then plan been to leave the day after tomorrow, so you could rest and get settled–”

Semi cleared his throat nearby, followed by a not so subtle snicker from Miyuki but Daichi  _ refused _ to look at them, because okay maybe–just maybe, it had been Daichi pushing for a later expedition date when the news had first come in that Kuroo was going to be the one coming in for this job.

Fuck their past and everything else that had happened, but Kuroo probably did need to rest.

“– _ but _ ,” he pushed on, “we will probably either be leaving out tonight, or in the morning. And you’ll only get three days to get the photos that you need. We’re happy to help in any other way. Is that okay?”

Kuroo’s grip around his camera had noticeably tightened, “Three days?”

Daichi nodded.

“I guess so,” the man took in some of the salt in the air in one big breath. “I can’t change the weather, so my boss will have to understand.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the group, where Daichi just watched Kuroo, and Kuroo looked over Daichi’s face. Whatever uncertainty had fallen Kuroo’s features were masked away, tucked past his eyes, hidden into the rest of the person that Daichi felt some familiarity for but no longer the competency from four years previous.

“Let me just introduce you to everyone, and we’ll go from there.”

Hair continuing to wind around his face and through the air, Kuroo nodded.

“This is Miyuki Kazuya, marine biotechnologist as well as shark enthusiast,” Daichi said, pointing to Miyuki who only stared knowingly back to Kuroo through dark rimmed glasses.

“And then Kamasaki, our marine mammalogist, or our whale and seal expert,” he continued, and the man mentioned gave a stiff nod to Kuroo.

Daichi patted Semi on the shoulder, pink shirt and all, “And of course Semi Eita, stingray conservationist and ichthyologist. And sometimes he plays guitar.”

The pale blonde gave a noise of acknowledgment before saying, “I heard you didn’t like my shirt.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened, before finding his target words, “A shirt like that really shouldn’t exist.”

Daichi found himself snorting, turning his head away in way to find something else to focus on except Kuroo’s need to point out Semi’s shirt.

Semi narrowed his eyes, “My shirt is–”

“A mistake to mankind?” Miyuki finished.

Semi whirled on the bespectacled man. “Like you’re one to talk! Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror before you leave your house, or are you just like that?”

Miyuki snickered, “I’m just like this. Beautiful and all, thank you.”

Kamasaki groaned, before running his hands over his face. “You both dress like a-grade assholes.”

“Now, now,” Daichi interrupted, focusing on Kuroo who was already looking at him. “Each of us are marine biologists working on specific research here in the Galápagos Island’s. We were given a grant a couple years ago to do research on scalloped hammerhead sharks and how their tolerance towards hypoxic levels can help people. Or hope to receive more funding in that area of study.”

“Hypoxic depths?” Kuroo asked. “Like levels relating to the absence of oxygen?”

“Right,” Daichi continued, eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Some of our studies are also centered around global climate change and how that’s affecting the ocean’s oxygen levels–and ultimately the creatures who live in it.”

Kuroo removed his hands from his camera, stuffing them into the pockets of his jeans. “That’s… Actually really cool, Sawamura.”

_ Sawamura. _

Daichi had to force his muscles still to keep from cringing at the lack of drawl in his name that had always easily come from Kuroo’s mouth. 

_ Sa’amura this,  _ and  _ Sa’amura that. _ Daichi didn’t, and shouldn’t have expected any differently. But it had taken them getting together, and being together for months before Kuroo had relented and ever called him  _ Daichi.  _ Kuroo had claimed it was because everyone else called him Daichi, and he had wanted to be different,  _ special.  _

“Daichi can be cool when he wants to be,” Miyuki joined, evidently done jabbing at Semi.

Daichi puffed out a little air, “None of you would be able to survive without me. You’d all kill each other, so I’d say that’s pretty cool.”

  
  


* * * * *

After being briefed and shown briefly around the center–where Kuroo openly gapped at the research labs, and the breeding center where there were all sorts of turtles and iguanas  _ everywhere _ –and he was taken further through the paths of the facilities. Towards the back, tucked amongst trees looked to be several homes.

“There are several like this around the research center for the people who don’t live in Puerto Ayora. Especially travelling researchers,” Daichi continued as they made their way up the trail.

It was just the two of them now, the others claiming to have other work to do before that evening. They had asked though if they wanted to join them in town at one of the bars if they didn’t have to head out that night, and though Daichi had looked at them with the same firm resolve he’d given the guys earlier–giving them what Kuroo assumed was his best leader-voice–they’d still roped Daichi  _ and  _ Kuroo into it.

The looks the other three researchers had been giving Kuroo all morning and afternoon didn’t bode well for him–especially with the spark of scrutiny continually being sent to him from Miyuki in honest to god waves. 

Kuroo wanted to groan in exhaustion. Especially if he was going to have to deal with all of them, and not have a nap between now and then.

“Over the past couple years I’ve housed here, and they’ve had a couple researchers staying in the extra room. The last one left a couple months ago though. Kazuya and Eita house in the one right there,” Daichi said pointing to another home. “And Yasushi stays with a couple other researchers closer to the center.” 

Kuroo appreciated the small home as they came up to it. White stucco walls with a dark wood arbor placing partial shade over the entrance. There appeared to be solar panels on a part of the roof. The afternoon sun peeked through the vibrant trees behind the home, and the wind was soft through the open space giving the area warmth and life. Birds tweeted and called between the branches hovering over the house. There were wide windows on the first floor as well as on what appeared to be a smaller second floor. 

“I’m sorry,” Daichi started, rubbing the back of his head–a habit that hadn’t gone away it would seem. “If you don’t want to stay here, with me then I can get you set up with someone else–”

“No!” Kuroo rushed to say, almost stumbling down the path. “No, this is fine. Thank you.”

Daichi searched his face for a moment before seemingly finding whatever affirmation he was looking for. “Okay. Um, I’m sure the guide told you but it may be hard to make phone calls because the signal is spotty.”

Kuroo nodded briefly before following the other man up the steps of the home. On the front porch there were a couple of wooden chairs sitting around a small outdoor table. Beyond the table was the entrance, and Daichi pushed the door open and a whoosh of cool air brushed Kuroo’s features. 

The home had bright yellow walls and red quarry tiles lining the floor, leading into a sitting room. The entrance opened further to the kitchen and dining area together–a round table with several chairs, though the table was covered in papers, several books and a laptop. 

Kuroo (looking at the empty space, like, wow, there's no one else here)

“So you haven’t… been with anyone, like, dating–”

“No,” Daichi interrupted, skepticism in his gaze. “I’ve been busy with research. Why?”

“Ah, oh, uh. No reason,” he said, refusing to meet Daichi’s eyes. “Still the hard and modest worker, as always.”

Daichi, raised his dark eyebrows to the other. “I’ve learned to hold back when the time is necessary.” He sent Kuroo the smallest of smiles before turning his face, gazing over the home he’d inhabited for close to two years.

Daichi’s profile was–

_ Handsome,  _ Kuroo’s mind not-so-helpfully supplied while he began to dig one of his shoes into nearby sand. The other man was contemplative as he looked around his home, bright but warm, open and inviting. A striking resemblance between the home and the man who inhabited it made itself apparent to Kuroo.

In the silence that fell between them, pressure crept up Kuroo’s throat. It pushed and shoved at his voice-box, whispering, begging and pulling– _ I’m sorry, I know, and I missed a lot, and I don’t know what to say, do or think because you’re  _ here  _ and– _

A voice behind them called Kuroo out of the slow stare he’d started to give the space.

“Hey,” Semi called from behind them. “Dr. Thresa called. She said we’d be leaving out in the morning. The captain of the ship also wants to talk to you Daichi.”

Daichi turned towards the open door, Kuroo following his gaze and movement. The other just nodded to Semi before turning his attention back to Kuroo. 

“Your room is up the stairs on the left,” Daichi said. “You’re welcome to put your stuff up, take a nap, maybe walk down to the beach. Just don’t get lost.”

Kuroo scoffed, forcing his lips to pull into a smirk. 

* * * * *

That night Kuroo joined Daichi and the others at one of the local bars in the town of Puerto Ayora. Really, he should have known from the beginning that it was going to be a bad idea. 

That miyuki guy had been giving him bad vibes since he’d first stepped foot on the dock earlier that day. Kuroo liked to pride himself on being someone who could easily get under someone’s skin, but never with malicious intent.

That was the difference he decided to make between Miyuki and himself. Though Kuroo was starting to let the spite get the better of him the further the night went.

And fucking hell, all it had taken was just a few words, prodding and poking in the right direction–like someone stoking a campfire, with the right fuel, just enough bush grass–and the wall that had grown effectively crumbled.

“I thought you left,” Miyuki had prompted to the table. Semi, Kamasaki and Daichi all sat with them, nursing on a drink. 

The world around them stilled. Daichi tensed next to him, dropping his chin onto the back of his hands. 

“I did,” Daichi said. “The last time I saw him, I was on a train, leaving for Miyagi.”

Kuroo cleared his throat, sinking a little further in his chair, pulling his legs towards himself.

The other two men had closed their mouths, but Semi tried to nudge under the table at Miyuki, silently begging for the bespectacled man to stop. 

He didn’t.

* * * * *

“We were both  _ busy,  _ and Daichi–I was  _ scared! _ ” he pleaded towards the dark haired man. They had long left the bar, but the tension followed them until they stopped on the steps of Daichi’s home.

He really shouldn’t have had that third beer that was slid towards him over the table, and he probably shouldn’t have given in to everything that Miyuki said either.

“Who said I was going anywhere Kuroo? You thought I wanted to lose you? Our friendship and whatever else we were?”

_ Whatever else we were. _

Kuroo sucked in all the air he could muster into his lungs. He held it there for an impossibly long time as Daichi’s eyes bore into his face. 

Daichi’s hands gripped tight on his hips, shoulders strung back like he was holding his own breath–or an arrow from a bow. He stood just inside the door of his home, leaving Kuroo on the other side, in the dark night.

“Kuroo,” Daichi whispered into the quiet evening, past the whistling crickets and distant ocean waves. “What right did you have to decide that I didn’t want you in my life?”

Across the threshold of the door Kuroo forced himself still.

Daichi, with a long sigh, turned on his heels. His back disappeared into the home, but the tension in his presence remained in Kuroo’s veins. It breathed into the night air, wafting, leaving Kuroo to think on all the things he should have done, and should have said.

_ though when she begged them for their stories _

_ they danced back away from reach, _

  
  


After three flights, Kuroo had been hoping, wishing and begging the universe for a decent night's sleep. Instead, he’d tossed and turned amongst the thin sheets. The blinds of the windows had been wide open the entire night with the moon singing her pale song to the shadows of his room. He rolled, back and forth, tangling himself amongst the sheets and his thoughts as well.

_ How do we talk after this, what do I do, this has to be over soon, why, why– _

The thoughts continued until eventually,  _ I have a job to do. As soon as it’s over, I can leave. And we can pretend this didn’t happen. And we’ll go back to not seeing each other again. _

_ Again. _

He briefly looked to the bedside table where he’d placed a shell necklace from his neck. The purple of the scalloped edges burned his eyes, before he flipped over again.

He groaned, throwing a pillow over his head, hoping the bed would swallow him. Instead he fluctuated between a restless sleep and a cacophony of wakeful thoughts until the sun began to creep over the sunrise.

Following the early sun, Kuroo heard the door downstairs open and close with the softest  _ click  _ but it was there. It was then he realized he’d never heard Daichi coming upstairs, 

He found himself climbing out of bed to check the time, assuming they would be leaving soon to board the boat. The time on his phone blinked the bright numbers of 6:10 a.m. at him. With another deep groan and heavy steps, he made his way down the stairs.

The house was empty of Daichi. Books were stacked and closed, with the couple of laptops that had been out on the tables cleared off, probably taken to wherever Daichi had disappeared to. A quiet solitude filled the space where before he thought of the walls as warm–it was now dull, the yellow walls trapping him, even though the door was available to walk through. 

He walked past the round dining table, where on the kitchen counter he spotted a cup of coffee. The smell still wafted in the air towards his nostrils, rising with the steam from the cup. The dark roast that had been brewed was distinct to his system–considering it was his favorite. And either Daichi remembered it was his favorite, or it had been all he had. It couldn’t have been too long before that Daichi had left, then.

Beside the cup, there was a brief note:

_ Headed out. Meet us at the docks before 7:00. Semi will be here before to take you down there. _

_ – Sawamura _

He had just finished reading the note when there was a quiet knock at the door, and it creaked open.

“Oh, you’re up,” Semi said from the door. Early morning light shined in, basking the ground in his dark silhouette. “Might wanna drink that up. It’s gonna be a long day.”

It didn’t take long for Kuroo to down the hot coffee, scalding his throat on the way down. His system woke up quickly as he shuffled to a shower to get cleaned up and dressed. It didn’t take much longer for him to gather all he needed onboard, as well as all of his camera equipment.

Semi was peacefully sitting at the dining table when he came back downstairs with his things. He was looking through a couple papers that were left on the table, but looked up as Kuroo entered. He gave a silent nod, before leading them out of the house.

Silently, they made their way away from the morning sun basked home. They continued down the path, and through the still sleepy research center, and down the dock. Calls of island doves and gulls greeted them from the trees, along with the sun’s warm heat that would only grow stronger in the day.

The closer they grew to the docks, the more his hair stood on ends. The wind was strong coming off the coast, dancing on the capped waves and it’s foam crashing onto white sand. 

Semi led them further along the docks, where several boats and liveaboards had been docked for the night. There were several people going to and from the dock from the research center, but a few voices caught his attention.

“You really are an idiot,” Kuroo heard as he made his way up the steps of the dock. His and Semi’s shoes clacked on the dark wood.

“Shut you trap, asshole, you aren’t much better,” Kamasaki’s distinctive gruff tone pushed. 

Next to Kuroo, Semi was shaking his head, 

“Someone looks grumpy,” Miyuki said, smirk plastered onto his face.

A flash of irritation wormed its way under Kuroo’s skin.

“Oh really?” He asked, lips pulling tight. “I wonder why that is.”

The smirk on Miyuki’s face didn’t disappear. Not in the slightest. If anything, Kuroo thought it only slid into a cynical blanket, displaying self-interest. “I’m not going to apologize for the things I said, it’s not in my nature.”

Nearby, Kamasaki snorted, but Miyuki’s sharp gaze was targeted onto Kuroo.

“Whatever the fuck happened between the two of you should be figured out, and quick. Or it’s going to eat at both of you for longer than just your trip here, Kuroo-san.”

The honorific struck a chord in Kuroo, and he ground his teeth together until he thought the white of the bones would fall off in flakes. “And what would you know about that? You don’t exactly strike me as the relationship kind of guy.”

For a moment, Miyuki looked miffed, but just for that moment, before he said, “More than I want.”

With that, Miyuki brushed past Kuroo and the other two, before disappearing onto the liveaboard. 

“Don’t mind him,” Kamasaki said. “He always makes you kind of want to punch him in the face.”

Semi patted Kuroo on the back, ignoring Kamasaki. “Daichi and the others are already on the boat. We won’t depart until 7:00, so you can take a breather if you need to.”

The boat, or more correctly the liveaboard that was settled on the waters in front of them had the name  _ Calypso  _ in a scroll’s script on the side. Turquoise paint on the lower deck glinted like it was winking towards him–as if the boat held all of the answers in the world. Two other floors were shining white in the sun, black windows glazed over, hiding their inner depths.

He followed Kamasaki and Semi up the walkway instead of staying behind on the dock. As soon as his feet stepped away from the ground surface, the ocean’s pull began eating at him. The waves underneath the boat rocked them gently, even if they were docked. 

Voices called across the main deck and towards the bridge, mostly quick Spanish followed by a mix of English. It all flew past Kuroo’s ears as he proceeded past a couple crew members, another couple of researchers, until he reached the back of the boat. There he found a sundeck with several lounge chairs leaned back and facing towards the sun. The sky was clear to the edges of the horizon, where the sun was completely in sight. The few clouds that had graced the sky with their presence were cupping the sun to the north and south. 

In that brief moment, he felt more at peace than he had since Daichi had stepped on the dock the day before. The sun was the only one staring back at him in knowing judgment; its nonphysical arms reached towards him, crawled across the waters glare, into his very being. With a deep breath, he let its existence, its warmth, wash over his skin to make a companion out of his cells. An even deeper sigh left his body, before he stretched out his long limbs. He tried working up a semblance of energy and then turned towards the rest of the boat. 

Semi was the one who showed him the rest of the boat–including the diving platform where they’d make their first dive that afternoon–as well as the dining room and outside dining space. Semi told him that the liveaboard was one they typically used when they could, but was mostly for larger expeditions and bigger groups of people. The third floor, the one above the diving deck, held only cabins where they’d all be sleeping. 

“Here’s yours and Daichi’s cabin,” Semi said.

If Kuroo had been drinking anything at the time, he knew he would have spit it out all over the floor. He gaped at Semi, feeling like a fish pulled straight from the water, “Did you just say Daichi?”

He looked towards the double beds. His gear and bags had been placed on the one closest to the windows, where the blue water was expansive and picturesque. The second bed, the one nearer to what appeared to be an ensuite bathroom, looked to have Daichi’s belongings sitting on and under it. 

_ Aha,  _ Kuroo thought.  _ Fuck.  _

“Look,” Semi started, “I know Miyuki’s tactics aren’t exactly normal–”

“You can say that again,” Kuroo grumbled.

Semi scoffed, “But he’s not wrong. Talking about the shit that happened will clear  _ something _ . It’s not gonna fix everything, but maybe it can be a start. Or at least, the two of you can depart on better terms than the previous. Miyuki does have a bit of experience in that field, believe it or not. If you have the chance, and don’t think you’re going to chew each other’s heads off before then, you might give it a try.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

“But Daichi does.”

Kuroo swiveled to Semi, feeling dizzy for a moment. “Does he?”

_ Because he didn’t act like it the night before,  _ Kuroo thought to himself.

Semi’s jaw was clenched tight, and his gaze was turned down the hall outside of the cabin. “Don’t you want to clear this up? Whatever happened? Whether you guys were together or not isn’t any of my business, but if it's been four years and the two of you are still like  _ this  _ then surely you know that it would be a little important? Or are both of you just that dense?”

Semi’s words weren’t laced with the same poison that Miyuki’s seemed to be any time he opened his mouth. Instead they were straightforward, honest, and clear like a lagoon. 

“I’ll have you know I’m extremely smart,” Kuroo tried, “I did graduate with a degree in Chemistry.”

“Sure, sure,” Semi said. “You might want to brush up on your knowledge on how chemical bonds work, then. Preferably by the time we get back to port in three days.”

“Did you try to make a chemistry joke?” Kuroo blinked at him. There was definitely a joke in that statement.

“No,” Semi said firmly, beginning to walk away.

“There definitely was!” Kuroo balked. “How sweet of you Semi-san, trying to make me feel better.”

The other man send him the universal “fuck off” finger, before completely disappearing down the hall, and into the lounge.

Kuroo wandered the boat, eventually making way to the dining area. The research crew had set up equipment all over the tables, various computers opened and other books laid out. Instead of chatting with them, he walked past to the main deck, where he spent the better part of their travel fiddling with his camera. He found himself in the background of the crew, taking shots of them talking about various equipment and research.

It wasn’t until much later, by several hours, after the sun had gone lower in the sky and most of them had lunch, when he caught sight of Daichi for the first time that day. 

The man’s eyes were rimmed dark, even from the distance, Kuroo could tell the shadows under them were deep. He stepped from the stairs coming from the floor above, the dark black pants of a wetsuit clinging to his legs and up his– _ fuck,  _ very nice–thighs. He had a white rash guard shirt on, with blue stripes on the side, but the compression was tight across his broad and sculpted chest.

Daichi’s eyes cut across the room until they found Kuroo’s. He dipped his head in a slight nod but Daichi appeared to take a deep breath before walking to the front of the lounge area. The captain of the boat was close behind him, until they were both standing and giving everyone a long look.

The captain called everyone to attention and told them that they were close to Isla Tortuga, where they would be anchoring for their first dive of the trip. Afterwards, Daichi took over and began to inform some of the team members who didn’t usually dive how this trip was going to go. They would be diving when they got there, as well as doing a night dive that evening. The plan was to get three or four dives in during the day, but that would depend on the time they had, as well as the type of information they were looking for. Daichi voiced that they wanted to find a spot where there were likely to be scalloped hammerheads–and that while they would have been making a trip to Darwin’s Arch or Isla Wolf if they could have, the storm was cutting them off from a trip at that distance.

He finished off his discussion with them by pointing out that Kuroo was there with them, though most of the researchers and crew members already knew that–he informed them that if Kuroo requested anything for pictures, then it should be okay, but most of the images should be taken while they were out on the tender boats, while they were getting ready for the dives, or even just doing research and such on the boat.

At the end of his discussion, Daichi walked towards the divedeck, but turned to look over his shoulder.

He met Kuroo’s eyes, and gave him a quick nod and waved for him to follow.

Faster than Kuroo would have liked to admit, he scrambled from the table he’d made a home at, and hurried past the others.

“Daichi I–” he started as soon as he hit the warm air outside.

He was quickly cut off, Daichi turning and shaking his head. “Right now I’m going to walk you through the diving gear, okay? We can talk later.”

Daichi’s eyes scanned over Kuroo’s face, likely finding the same dark circles and tired expression. The man visibly frowned, lips tightening, before turning to the equipment around them. 

He ran through the equipment quickly, knowing that Kuroo had previous experience but wasn’t a trained diver–the nitrox tanks, how they were used and how to put them on, as well as the diving suit they had pulled for Kuroo to wear. 

“Today you’re only going to be at surface level in scuba gear,” Daichi said. “Take your underwater equipment, and follow our every move. If you need something, all you need to do is wave. There will be people still on the tender, but Semi, Miyuki, Kamasaki and I will all be in the water diving. We’re preparing to find a couple hammerheads we can hopefully tag to study their patterns in hypoxic depths. If you ever,  _ ever _ , feel like you’re in danger, you  _ must _ let us know. Do you understand?”

Daichi was holding out Kuroo’s diving suit towards him, between the two of them. 

His voice was unyielding and Kuroo found himself nodding immediately. He continued to walk them through the steps, until it had been engraved into Kuroo’s head.

  
  


“Okay, Sawamura, we really need to talk,” he tried again, later, as everyone was getting dressed for the dive. They had recently anchored at Isla Tortuga–turtle island? really?–and some of the other members had already dropped the tender boats down for the dive.

He scooted next to Daichi who was currently sleeping his arms into a different diving shirt. The sleeves were long, 

“Right now?” Daichi asked, as he pulled on his diving boots. “We’re about to get into the water.”

“Right, but–”

“Kuroo,” Daichi said tone low, “we have time to talk later, okay?”

_ Stubborn.  _ Kuroo groaned internally. He rummaged around in his for anything to grasp. He desperately needed this conversation to happen, or he wasn’t going to do it. And Semi had been right–and maybe, just maybe, Miyuki as well–but they needed to talk. About last night, about the years before.

“I have some concerns,” Kuroo started, wanting to bang his head on one of the nearby showers.

Daichi pulled on his last boot, and stood up, bouncing on his feet a little bit. 

“Concerns?” he asked, passing Kuroo his snorkeling gear.

“See, I’m, a little worried about–”

_ About what, Testurou, think you nimwit! _

“–the sharks! I’m worried about the sharks.”

“You’ll be in the boat, and then out snorkeling. Nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he edged, fiddling with the snorkel he’d been given.

Daichi watched him, eyes narrowed while they analyzed, like he didn’t believe him or didn’t understand the statement. He eventually gave a deep sigh, turning dark eyes over his shoulder to look at him. “I’ve been diving here, with these animals, for over two years. And you know–I know you know because you were with me–but you’ve gone with me diving before. In Ogasawara.”

Kuroo watched intently as Daichi zipped up his own wetsuit in the back, and began pulling and tugging at the rest of the equipment. The other members of the ship–crew and the research group–were quiet, and while standing at a distance, Kuroo knew they could hear them.

Miyuki, Kamasaki and Semi were silently looking over their own equipment, heads down and backs turned.

Daichi paused, breath consuming his shoulders before he met Kuroo’s eyes with his own. Under the shade of the boat cover they were the darkest brown Kuroo had ever seen. His eyebrows pinched a little bit, and Kuroo knew the look taking over his features.

Concern.

“Kuroo,” Daichi said in a voice just over a whisper, “You know I’ve been diving since I was a kid.”

Kuroo did.  _ He did.  _

He remembered Daichi talking about the summers he’d visit his aunt where they’d go diving together, and Daichi taking summer break in university to spend it there

Kuroo did. He remember Daichi talking about the summers he would visit his aunt who lived in Ogasawara. The woman worked at a marine center there, working as a diving instructor. One visit when Daichi was just 10, had prompted him to become interested in diving–eventually taking lessons at the Umino-Mori aquarium in Sendai. At the time, Daichi’s mother was still alive, and she would take him and his younger twin sisters to the aquarium all the time.

Then, it was eventually just Daichi with Ryuki and Asumi.

During their years at university though, Daichi still took the time to take his sisters to the aquarium. 

He’d also invited Kuroo one summer to Ogasawara, where Kuroo got to meet Sawamura Nari– a boisterous lady, sturdy like the other Sawamura’s, who lived on the island with her partner at the time.

“It’ll be fine, Kuroo,” Daichi said, tone softer, melting over Kuroo’s body. It doused the nerves almost immediately, causing him to straighten up. “Then we’ll talk when we get back.”

Right. Everything would be fine.

* * * * * 

  
  


Suffice to say, everything was not fine. 

Kuroo’s leg felt like it was on fire, and looked fiery red under the sun as they helped him off the tender boat. 

His body tipped until he leaned heavily onto daichi, words slurred, “Ay Sa’amura, did I ever tell you I faint at the sight of blood?”

“You—you what?!”

“that time, you remember, when-when Akaashi messaged you while I was at the lab, and that I–” he took a deep breath, head lulling back further on Daichi’s shoulder, “–that I’d be home late because someone broke some beakers?”

Daichi nodded. He remembered getting that exact text from Akaashi and didn’t think too much of it at the time because in labs things were constantly 

Kuroo let out a faint, albeit strained, chuckle, “Well someone did. And I went to help them, but then fainted because they cut their hand.”

Daichi stared, visibly trying to piece together the story as well as work through his worry. 

“I didn’t want them to tell you, because I knew you’d come straight to the lab,” Kuroo continued. Daichi led him across the divingdeck, before setting him down on one of the furthest benches. “You’d had that training session with the kids at the aquarium, and you would have left but–”

Kuroo shook his head, dark enclosing around the edges of his vision. He blinked quickly at Daichi, holding onto his arm because he was  _ there _ . 

And, he didn’t want him to leave. 

Didn’t want him walking away with Kuroo saying something, anything.

He’d let him go before and, he didn’t think he could do it this time.

Kuroo opened his mouth but Daichi's voice called across the deck instead, loud and commanding.

“Get me the med kit right now!” His arm was wrapped around Kuroo’s back as he sat right next to him. The other’s weight was almost dead on his shoulder.

The breeze was heavy from the ocean on his face, but he felt warm like a volcano had erupted on his skin–like the lava was sweat and it was seeping through his wet plastered hair. 

“What’s going on?” the captain of the ship came from the kitchen area in a rush.

“Kuroo brushed on some coral,” Daichi answered. He nodded to Kuroo’s leg, “There’s a scrape on his leg that needs to be flushed and cleaned.”

The captain spoke quickly to some of the other members of the ship, words flying past Kuroo’s consciousness. 

Daichi quickly pulled one of the removable shower heads from close by, hose pulling across the water colored deck. 

Kuroo sucked in a deep breath, looking past the shaded shelter, past Daichi’s tan but flushed fash, to the clear sky. 

It felt like the ocean floor had swallowed him and buried him underneath hot, volcanic vents. As if the pods of seaweed had wrapped around his throat. He couldn’t speak. It was as if lightning struck the sand filling his chest, suffocating his lungs with fulgurite. 

There were voices all around, mumbling and drawn conversation. It sounded like Daichi shooed them away, because suddenly the shadows of the crowd disappeared. He was left in the presence of a once familiar friend, the distance between them stretching, even though he was  _ right _ there. 

Daichi was too close, suddenly. He started to flush the scrape with copious amounts of water, one hand held onto Kuroo’s leg, pulling him closer to Daichi but also closer to the water. The smell of the ocean’s unique chemicals rolled off of both of them in the small bathroom, infusing the space with the scent of tangy salt. He wanted to say something, anything, but the sting in his leg had made its way to his chest as well. It clutched at his breathing, squeezing until he had to gasp for air.

“Here’s the med kit,” Semi said from nearby. He walked towards them, eyeing Kuroo, before looking down at the scrape.

“Thank you,” Daichi answered. 

“Damn, that really looks rough,” Semi sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “For such a compact area, it really ble–”

Daichi loudly coughed before shaking his head in the direction of the other man. “Kuroo doesn’t do well with blood, so let's… Try and keep the, uh, red talk to a minimum.”

Semi investigated the wound closely, before pulling away.

“I’ll find him an ice pack or washcloth or something,” he said. Semi promptly left to the dining area where it looked like most of the people had congregated.

Kuroo took a hard breath, trying to reign his focus back to the man in front of him.

Daichi pulled back, eyes dark under the evening sun cutting through open walls. His mouth was pulled taut, pink lips pressed together in a thin line. His hair was wet, and pushed back and plastered to his head. The black of his wetsuit was shining, still damp and clinging all over the man like wet paper.

“Sawamura,” he started, chest tight as he leaned his head back against the wall. “‘Mura, I–”

“Shh, just lean back,” Daichi’s voice washed over him, threatening to send Kuroo to sleep. “Close your eyes.”

Kuroo straightened though, stretching up until he was more settled against the wall behind him.

“Sawamura, we need to talk.”

Daichi blinked at him, pausing his flushing of the scrape.

“Right now? Kuroo, you’re  _ injured. _ ”

“If I don’t say anything now, then I don’t know if I ever will,” he whispered, almost pleaded. He wasn’t sure if he was begging himself, Daichi, or the universe. 

Daichi heaved a small sigh, shoulders dropping.

And Kuroo he–

He could see it, the day Daichi got on the train. The day he was gone.

But more importantly, the days, weeks that had worked up to that moment. Because, as much as he wished it had been Daichi who’d left instead–it was him. Who’d pulled away, and let Daichi leave.

He’d been so afraid of him leaving, he let it happen anyways.

“I keep wanting to apologize,” he said, voice tangling with the breeze, “and I can’t figure out what to say.”

“For what?” Daichi whispered.

“Us. Last night.” 

Daichi stares at the other man, who’s gold eyes are hazy. “You have nothing to apologize for, Kuroo. We–I became too overwhelmed. By things we should have been able to lean on each other for, but instead forced us to turn away.”

Kuroo looks down and away from his wound, “I’d wanted to give you space.”

_ Space?  _ Daichi thought. “From what? Us?”

“No… yes? I–” he shook his head until dark hair fell over half his face. His eyes trailed away, past the dive deck and to the ocean where the waves continued to hold the boat in a soft embrace. “At the time we were both just so invested in getting into graduate school. And you were trying your damn hardest to get into that American school, and I–thought you were going to leave. Why would you try so hard to not go? I thought,  _ fuck,  _ why  _ shouldn’t _ he be allowed to go?”

Daichi rolled the words over in his mind, letting them process. He could clearly remember the days where Kuroo had pulled back on some of their plans, whether it was going to the movies, grabbing food together, even just sitting at one of their apartments and working on homework together. Kuroo would message Daichi things like  _ I’ve gotta be at the lab  _ or  _ I think I’m gonna work on this assignment here. Maybe later?  _ At the time, he’d thought,  _ sure, that makes sense. _

But then it happened again.

And again.

Until they rarely saw each other in person. Until the bridge between them wasn’t even a bridge, wasn’t a carefully crafted ribbon tying them together by fate. Instead it was the ocean pulling their boats of life further, and further, until the horizon stretched between the two of them.

“So you decided to let me go yourself,” Daichi said. He tilted his head down to look at Kuroo’s leg, the calf he held in one hand, carefully. 

Kuroo didn’t answer, just leaned back against the wall of the diving deck. He was also carefully avoiding looking at the wound on his leg.

Quiet passed between the two of them. Daichi had leaned forward again, only to begin dabbing bacitracin over the wound. 

This close, Kuroo allowed himself to look,  _ really _ look, at Daichi’s face. The laugh lines, the crow’s feet, and pink lips. His features were narrowed only slightly, focused either on the job in front of him or continuing to mull over Kuroo’s words

“Your freckles,” Kuroo started, staring at the small dots splattered across Daichi’s nose and cheeks. He reached his hand to just brush a light finger underneath Daichi’s eyes, above his cheeks. 

Daichi immediately paused his ministrations. His head slowly tilted towards Kuroo.

“My freckles?” he asked, low.

Kuroo’s finger continued to draw across the man’s cheeks. 

The touch sent a spark of electricity down his vertebrae, through his nervous system, immediately crossing the wires that Daichi had been desperately trying to keep separated.

_ Skin, skin, warmth– _

Daichi blinked at Kuroo, trying not to squeeze the leg in his grip, careful of the wound. But the other man still drifted the pad of his index finger from one cheek to the opposite side.

“They’re like seashells,” Kuroo whispered, breath ghosting past Daichi’s face. 

“O-okay,” Daichi cleared his throat, taking Kuroo’s hand and pulling it away from his face. “Maybe it’s time to take you to bed, and let you rest.”

“You can take me to bed any day, Sawamura- _ san, _ ” Kuroo drawled, gaze heavy, head foggy–

_ Sleep, yes, sleep,  _ Kuroo thought.

The taller man leaned further back, slipping down the wall, closing his eyes.

Daichi let out a relieved sigh. After completely cleaning the other’s wound, he called Kamasaki and Semi to both help him take Kuroo to his room. It was a process to get the sleep induced, and though taller, no less heavy man up the stairs and into their room.

They left him in the room, closing the shades. 

“Hey, is everything okay–” Semi started to ask, but Daichi had already walked away.

Semi and Kamasaki watched his back, taut shoulders, and head hung low.

* * * * *

On the other side of the boat, Daichi rubbed fiercely at his eyes until spots crossed his gaze. He could still feel the contour of Kuroo’s fingers making their way on his cheeks.

* * * * *

_ “the secrets of the sea,” they said _

_ “you must learn on your own _

_ but it’s true there are more horizons _

_ than the only one you’ve ever known,” _

_ * * * * * _

**end of part two**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO PROMISE THE NEXT PART IS BETTER :')) at the end of the next part, i'll have the full poem at the bottom.
> 
> scream about daichi and kurodai with me??
> 
> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/home?lang=en)
> 
> my [tumblr](https://spookysp-ace.tumblr.com)


	3. part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one when they come together, and they realize–
> 
> they realize they don't want to miss each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy??? holy fuck???? a) im sorry it took me so long to finish this but b) its FUCKING FINISHED??? wowowo yall really don't understand how hard this was to finish
> 
> me: can i finish this piece now?
> 
> brain: :')))
> 
> me: ...please???
> 
> brain: :'))))))
> 
> anyways. it be like that sometimes. everyone say "thank you Eli" bc i swear without her "stop procrastinating" i would not have finished this.
> 
> song to listen to while reading:
> 
> [New Electricity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zX-M0-33sX8)
> 
> OKAY ENJOY BEK OUT

**pt 3**

* * * * *

  
  


_“the secrets of the sea,” they said_

_“you must learn on your own_

_but it’s true there are more horizons_

_than the only one you’ve ever known,”_

  
  


* * * * *

When Kuroo opened his eyes, he was greeted by the dark sky. Stars shined behind the evening clouds, dappling the cheeks of the sky, eyes of the moon even brighter.

He blinked allowing the day’s events to come crashing like a wave into his system. With his system coming back to the surface, so did the stinging pain from his leg. It bleated and cried from his leg in his fresh wakefulness. He sat up to pull the sheets of the bed off his legs, fabric brushing the raised skin.

With a hiss, he lightly tapped around the scrape, before deciding better of making it more inflamed.

Kuroo took in another breath of air before–

_Fuck, where’s the necklace?_

He whirled around, patting the sheets and the bed, eyes still adjusting to the dark. 

_Thank the universe,_ he sighed. Kuroo sighed, reaching over to the bedside table, where the leather necklace sat. The purple of the seashell hanging from it seemed to glare at him in the dark. 

Tentatively he slugged from the bed, turning on the lamp as well. Light shed across the room, bathing his things as well as some of Daichi’s luggage. Upon sight of the other man’s things he was struck by some of the things he’d said earlier.

_Your freckles–_

_Like seashells–_

He groaned, throwing his head into his hands. _What the fuck Tetsurou? Really? Seashells?_

He couldn’t blame his subconscious, his consciousness, or any other part of his thinking on that one, because really–Daichi’s freckles _did_ look like seashells. Like the universe had sewn them on the man’s face just like it had with desultory strokes of shells across the tan sands. It made him think of the first time he’d seen those freckles up close, when he sat with Daichi outside of a Tokyo gym during nationals. Soft spoken words into the cold night air, Daichi leaning his head back on a bench, staring up at the sky, whispers of their future laid out in cold breath.

Kuroo sighed before stepping out of the bed, trying to push those very thoughts behind him.

After eventually changing from the still damp wet suit he’d been wearing earlier, he stepped out of the cabin. With each step he felt his skin pull around the rubbed and raised area of his injury. His steps were light as he made his way down the hall. The voices coming from the lounge and dining space were low, minimum, telling him there were probably few people in the area, considering the twenty-ish people that had on the trip.

the cabin was right next to the lounge and dining area…

Sitting at one of the oak tables, Miyuki typed away on a laptop. There were a couple other members of the crew further away closer to the dive platform. Another stood behind the bar chatting with one of the research members. 

Kuroo walked into the lounge area, gauging the space. His eyes had just roved over the seats before Miyuki spotted him.

“Oh, so the dead do wake, hm?”

There was no suppressing the glare that made its way onto Kuroo’s features. He was starting to think he should have stayed in bed, and stayed asleep.

“Wow, that’s one nasty look,” Miyuki continued pressing. He leaned back against the booth chair he was sitting in

“Nothing compared to your face I’m sure,” Kuroo said, sneering.

Miyuki returned the look with his own wry one, “Thank you for the compliment.”

With a roll of his eyes, Kuroo walked over. The sting from the scrape had lessened since he woke up, but continued to stir each time he made a step. 

“The others–” Kuroo started but Miyuki waved him off.

“They went ahead on the night dive. Daichi and the captain said you probably needed to rest and keep your leg out of the water, so they let you sleep.

He gave Miyuki a nod, taking his chance to join him in the booth and sit across from him. Miyuki said nothing but continued typing on his keyboard. Every so often he would grace the notebook next to him with a look, but then resume typing. 

Semi had said that Miyuki had _experience–_ and Kuroo hadn’t yet determined whether that was with relationships or his exact situation. He rolled the idea, words, around in his head and how to say them, how to speak it outloud. Should he talk about the entire thing, from the beginning? He assumed Daichi after knowing these guys for a couple years, or more, had probably briefed them on some of his own past experiences. 

“Sometimes what you want, you can’t have–yet,” Miyuki said, slicing their silence. 

Kuroo rolled his head to the side, leaning back on the leather of the booth. He stared across the water, taking that reply in. “I didn’t say anything.”

The typing on the keyboard stopped. Miyuki man raised a pointed brow, drawing his elbows up to the table for him to balance his chin there. He regarded Kuroo with stifling scrutiny, like he was dragging the oxygen out of the ocean.

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”

“Really now?”

“Yes.”

Kuroo hoped the glare he gave back to Miyuki was twice as imposing. It seemed to work as Miyuki looked back down at the task he had in front of himself, but leaned back against the leather of the booth. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“What do you want?” Miyuki asked

“Semi said you had experience,” Kuroo said, slowly.

Miyuki sent him a raised brow. “Did he now? What sort of experience?”

Kuroo pushed a hand through his hair. “Don’t fucking make me say it. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Maybe so,” Miyuki said, tapping his fingers on his arm. “Never hurts to hear it again.”

Starting to feel frustrated, Kuroo shook his head. “I’m not going to go around in circles with you about this. So–”

“We had started dating in high school,” Miyuki interrupted, before raising a glass of water to his lips. “Similar relationship experience, right? Well. We were both baseball players on the same team, at the time we’d both intended on going to university for it as well, hopefully to play as pros. But–”

He cleared his throat, and looked uncomfortable with his eyebrows drawn in, fingers tightening around the glass. “But there were things that neither of us felt like we could say out loud. And I’ll admit now it was more on my end. He was always loud, emotional, saying exactly how he felt. And sometimes on my end it was overwhelming. And then, there was my injury,” he sighed. 

Maybe it was an unconscious movement but he rolled his shoulders. Miyuki reached with his left

hand to press fingers into his own right shoulder. “After that, we said a little too much of some things, not enough of others. So we took our break, got our space.”

Kuroo felt himself being pulled towards the other man’s past, and the words that dripped past his lips. 

“Still have our space,” Miyuki continued. “And sometimes, that’s how things are. We still talk on occasion, but we had both been around each for so long, had engrained each other so deeply into our daily routines, that we–and maybe it was just me–couldn’t figure out anything other than us.”

“And now?” Kuroo asked.

“We talk. It’s nice. He’s playing baseball in America, and asked me to go to one of his games in September.”

It was Kuroo’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

Miyuki scoffed. “What did you expect? Not every story has a happy ending. Maybe if we’d gotten shit out in the open to begin with then me and him wouldn’t be at this impasse now, but we are.”

“So you’re telling me to get my shit together.”

“That’s what I said earlier too, and I don’t like repeating myself. If there’s something you want to do,” Miyuki nodded his head towards the open waters, as if it was the embodiment of Daichi in their conversation, “then do it. What better place to figure out your problems than here, surrounded by sharks?”

_Yeah, and you’re one of them,_ Kuroo thought with little remorse.

They fell into silence again, as Miyuki eventually uncrossed his arms to begin typing on his computer. Kuroo watched his fingers fly and click, before out of nowhere Miyuki cleared his throat again. He stopped his clacking and looked up, meeting Kuroo’s eyes.

“Whale sharks are incredibly imposing, but they’re not dangerous,” Miyuki said. 

“I didn’t even ask–” Kuroo tried.

“I’m not the shark expert though. That’s a Daichi question. Why I ever agreed to doing studies over hammerhead sharks is way over my current self. Though I’d take those hammerheads over some bull or tiger sharks any day.”

Miyuki had a scowl on his face as he continued to type on his computer, but his eyes were sharp and focused on the numbers written on the notepad to his side. 

_Imposing but not threatening, huh._

Warm brown eyes and freckles smattering a tan face trilled in his subconscious like the songs of a whale. 

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


“Well that’s bullshit.”

“What?” Daichi asked, floundered. They were seated on the tender boat, headed back from the dive site. Semi and Kamasaki were giving him varying looks of _are you serious?_

He’d told the guys about Kuroo before. Granted, it was in few words, and the whole picture hadn’t been laid out. Then after the night previously at the bar, and earlier during the day, he could understand why Semi and Kamasaki were curious.

Why he was curious with himself, and the warmth blossoming beneath his chest when he looked at Kuroo. Those feelings had been laid to rest years ago. 

At least, that’s what he had hoped.

“No offense,” Semi said in a tone that said _I mean complete offense,_ “but you’re reasoning behind not wanting to have feelings for him seems a little old.”

Daichi blinked again. Were they seriously saying this?

“Right,” Kamasaki continued. “Like maybe you told yourself that several years ago.”

He turned his attention away from the two of them, to the stars above them. The roar of the tender boat was a comfort compared to his heart beating drums in his ear. 

He had told them that they were past this. That Kuroo and him had their run back in university, and that should have been it.

No matter how much Kuroo’s smiles made his chest squeeze and tighten. Certainly not with how Kuroo’s fingers had felt brushing underneath his cheeks.

Not with how softly, genuinely, Kuroo had spoken at him, even through his faint-riddled mind–calling his freckles _seashells._ And while he may have said those things, that he was sorry about the time before–that didn’t necessarily mean anything about _now._

Did it?

“We’re all going back to Japan in a few weeks anyways, in case you’ve forgotten,” Semi added.

He hadn’t forgotten. Their time in the Galapagos Islands was coming to an end and he had a choice–a job offer he’d not yet accepted in Ogasawara. His aunt had called him saying that a position would be opening after the summer was over. She’d said that her and her partner would be moving back to the Sendai area, to be closer to her mom–Daichi’s grandmother, as well as his two younger sisters. 

_“The job is yours, Dai, if you want it,”_ she said some weeks ago. _“I should have left years ago to help Nana.”_

_“She’ll tell you she doesn’t need help,”_ and he’d chuckled, thinking about his aged grandmother, Nana.

_“Beside the point. You love being here in Ogasawara. Think about it, okay Daichi?”_

Nearby, Kamaski moved over to sit next to Daichi. “Look. If you want to go for it, then why shouldn’t you? You’re both older and shit now, so fucking do it.”

“Eloquent,” Semi muttered.

Kamasaki whipped around, “You don’t need to start that shit either, you–wannabe band member.”

Semi scoffed. “Is that the best you can come up with?”

With a deep sigh, Daichi sat up. The driver of the tender boat pulled them back towards the liveaboard. All he could think about as they pulled their equipment back onto the divedeck was the word _again, again, again–_

Back on deck, after they’d showered and changed into normal shirts and shorts, they made their way into the lounge where Daichi spotted Kuroo sitting at a booth with a nonverbal Miyuki.

“The two of you haven’t killed each other,” Semi noted exactly what Daichi was thinking.

The two looked up, Miyuki from his work, and Kuroo from looking out the window. Kuroo’s gaze landed on Daichi first, and Daichi walked forward to them. 

“Surprise, surprise,” Miyuki answered. “We are actually capable of not maiming.”

Kuroo scooted in the booth to allow Daichi to slip next to him. Both of them ignored the others as they continued back and forth.

“How’s your leg?” Daichi asked, looking down to where Kuroo had one of his pant’s legs rolled up to his knee.

They fell into a stream of conversation afterwards. Kuroo informed him about how his leg was still stinging, and Daichi told him that they would dress it and then wrap it again before bed that night.

Sometime in the midst of their conversation, food had been placed on the tables in front of them. As well, Semi had left for his own room, and came back with an acoustic guitar.

The strum of the guitar strings plucked the particles in the air around them. Semi continued to play until the world around them was drowning in the velvety mush of its acoustics. 

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


If kuroo said that they’d never fought, before they drifted, then he’d be wrong. Though, he can truthfully say that most of their arguments fizzled off, and they could work through them _together_ —because that’s how they both worked, no matter how stubborn both of them were.

Not the last one.

The final one. Like the last boss in a game, that you hammer and hammer until eventually you want to cry, scream, give up. Things were different after that one. As if they had subconsciously turned their focus, completely and wholly, to different places. Away from one another. Kuroo knew he’d already made the decision to give Daichi his space to do his own things because he’d deserved _everything_ then, but doesn’t think that’s how it was supposed to happen. He doesn’t think that’s what they meant from it.

Kuroo doesn’t remember them ever defining their relationship like most people had. That was one of the issues, he knows that now. Everyone around them had assumed they were dating, and neither of them would deny it. They’d hold hands, give sleepy kisses before falling asleep while watching a movie—or a documentary, because okay, maybe they watched Blackfish at least twenty times together—and go out together as each other’s plus one.

If they had broken up, that’s when it happened. 

And was it finals they had be spouting off about or was it like _exam finals,_ or–

Or finale. The end.

And then one slammed door, exiting the threshold, only to see each other again at a train station.

* * * * *

  
  


Kuroo woke up to the sound of the shower turning off. Early sunlight was pouring into the room from the wide windows, blinds open. The sun’s glow warm on his skin, painting the white walls of the small quarters in something akin to comfort. He rolled over, the ache from yesterday’s activities settling into his muscles and down to his bones. The sting of the coral scrape rushed up his leg. He knows they said it was a smaller scrape but _damn_ that little fucker hurt.

“You’re awake already?” 

Kuroo turned in his eyes to find Daichi coming from the bathroom, steam from the shower flowing into the room. It bathed Daichi in an air of soused gold from the sun breathing through condensation 

“I slept through most of yesterday evening,” Kuroo chuckled, trying to keep his eyes off of Daichi’s bare chest. It really wasn’t fair on anyone when Daichi existed with muscles like that. His shoulders were broad, unrestrained by the shirts worn throughout their trip. The only part of him dressed was his legs, covered in black diving shorts, tight around the man’s thighs. 

The man walks towards him as Kuroo sits up. 

“Sorry,” Daichi said as he sat on the edge of Kuroo’s bed. “We went on an early morning dive this morning, and I thought you probably still needed to rest.” 

Kuroo chuckled, a smile pulling over his features. “Aw, you do care.”

“I always did,” Daichi said, leaning his elbows on his knees. He peeked over at Kuroo from over his shoulder. The early morning sun graced Daichi’s brown gaze, swirling in them like melted chocolate. 

“Me too,” Kuroo answered. His voice felt like it was running over gravel, stuck, caught in his throat.

Daichi hummed. He continued to look at Kuroo, like he was reading a novel, and intrigued by its contents. He lifted his hand, fingers halting midair, pads dancing with the dust in the air, before pushing towards Kuroo’s face.

Kuroo’s chest clenched. He let out a relieved sigh as Daichi’s fingers ran over his cheek, up towards his hair. Daichi continued with his fingers, gently stroking at the dark strands, pushing them out of Kuroo’s face.

A knock on the door had Daichi pulling back. Kuroo wanted to curse the sky for whoever decided they really needed to interrupt them.

“Come in,” Daichi called to the door.

Kamasaki opened it, grin feral on his features.

“There’s something you need to see,” Kamasaki said. Then he nodded to Kuroo, “And you might wanna grab your camera.”

  
  


_so when the day comes when the sunsets_

_all begin to look the same,_

  
  


Sharks. Several hundred of them if Kuroo had to take a guess. A large one, spotted in white, was being clung to by small fish as the other sharks appeared to give it a wide berth.

“That’s a _shark_?”

Daichi chuckled, but his expression was surprised. He leaned over the edge of the boat, “Yeah, it’s a whale shark. Likely female from the size.”

The other man turned his attention away from the shark, asking Kamasaki, “Did y’all get a measurement?”

Kamasaki nodded. “They’re probably about twelve meters in length.”

Kuroo’s insides screeched as he openly gaped at the creature, “Twelve meters? And it’s not going to eat us? It’s safe?” 

Daichi threw his head back with laughter, loud and bold and rivaling anything the sun had ever shinned on. 

Kuroo stared in wonder, his lips pulling up. Daichi clapped him on the shoulder, “No worries Tetsu, these sharks are quite friendly.”

_Tetsu?_ Said so confidently, and rolling off Daichi’s tongue like he’d done it a thousand times—said like it hadn’t been four years since the last time he spoke it. Like a recited prayer, like he’d studied it over and over, practiced until it was ingrained in the blue veins under his skin. Like the last time he said it, the very name hadn’t been called to a cold back. Daichi spoke his name like it was the only name he ever needed to say. As if it was the only name he’d ever spoken.

Kuroo wanted him to say it again. Over and over until it was etched in the paper of his heart.

“It’s the other sharks you need to worry about,” Daichi said, nonchalant, like he hadn’t even noticed he’d said _Tetsu_. The man nodded towards the others that were surrounding the boat, ignoring Kuroo’s internal screaming. “Those are scalloped hammerheads, the ones we’re studying. Looks like there’s some reef sharks and some Galapagos as well.”

Daichi’s hand was warm, burning Kuroo through his shirt and threatening to make him faint _again._ His fingers didn’t leave his skin, just brushed gently over the fabric until the man was turned back to Kuroo. “You ready to do what you’re getting paid for?”

A door.

It was as if a medieval door with its warded locks had snapped open. The path was wide open with lanterns guiding the way.

Kuroo found himself smirking–like a cat stretching in the sun, embracing the warmth–and he looked at the ocean’s creatures swarming.

“You fucking bet.”

* * * * *  
  


_and it feels like you could call_

_each shell for miles by name,_

* * * * *

They’d arrived back on land two days later. Kuroo had been satisfied with the images that had come from their time on the liveaboard and he could only hope that his boss would think the same thing. Three days out was nothing compared to the two weeks that he’d be told, but Daichi and Dr. Thresa had let him know he was free to take images throughout the research center.

“If your boss has any issues, then he can talk to me,” Dr. Thresa had said as soon as they got back. Her eyes were dark, swirling without an ounce of humor. Kuroo had to stop himself from laughing at the idea of his boss getting chewed out by someone thousands of miles away.

Later in the evening though, Daichi and Kuroo were both back at Daichi’s residence. Kuroo leaned back on the railing of the porch, camera hanging from the strap on his neck, about to take a photo.

Daichi watched, intrigued. He tilted his head slightly, leaning his head back onto the chair. The camera looked comfortable on Kuroo. Less like the safety net it had appeared to be on the first day he’d arrived on the island–more like a companion, or the partner in a symbiotic relationship. The other man held it with the delicacy that someone would give a newborn child–long fingers gently cupped the camera’s body, tilting it in the direction of the beach.

In the few years that they had known each other, briefly in high-school and then all of university, Daichi didn’t think the other man had expressed interest in photography. Daichi knew that Akaashi had been invested in literature as well as a passion for photography, and he’d also been the one to reach out to the director of the research facility in terms of sending out a photographer. While Daichi had briefly met Akaashi in highschool as well, it wasn't until they were in their second year of university when he’d made a better acquaintance. First with Kuroo, and then eventually with Iwaizumi.

When Akaashi had mentioned that the magazine he currently worked for was interested in sending someone for pictures, he hadn’t mentioned who he was sending. Iwaizumi in turn hadn’t let off a single note about them sending Kuroo either. Dr. Thresa only told him it was Kuroo the day of, giving Daichi one of the biggest scares of his entire existence.

He’d spent that morning on the water with Miyuki, Semi and Kamasaki grouchy–yes, he would admit to being grouchy that day. The guys had really tried to make things better, but their banter had only made him want to throw all of them overboard.

“So. Photography, huh?” Daichi asked, bringing himself back to the present. He took a sip of his glass of water, leaning back in his chair. “What happened to the chemistry nerd?”

Kuroo put the camera down for a moment, eyeing the turquoise-shifted-navy sky as if it had the answers to the universe.

“Well, I started grad school, like we had talked about. And at first, it was great. I was so positive going into it that I was going to get my master’s in chemistry, become a water chemist, do research and stuff but–” Kuroo shook his head, a bittersweet smile taking over his face. “I was losing my focus, not enjoying it. I think I physically felt like the passion had almost disappeared. At the time Akaashi and I were rooming together; he’d come back to our apartment one day, saw me just staring at this stack of books I had to go through by the end of the semester, and asked me if I’d ever tried photography. It just… went from there.”

“He was taking photos for that magazine, wasn’t he?” Daichi asked.

“Yeah, did Iwaizumi tell you?”

Daichi nodded. “He still keeps me updated from time to time on what they’re up to.” 

Kuroo snorted. “Of course. Akaashi’s the one who kind of set this whole thing up anyways. He’d told me he wasn’t going to be able to travel because of wedding planning, but I should have known. He’s a sneaky little fucker.”

Daichi laughed, throwing his head back, letting the last bits of sunlight warm his face. “He’s a good friend though.”

“He really is. We share a studio now, and I use a lot of the space as a makeshift darkroom.”

“Darkroom?”

“Ah, it’s usually where people will try to develop negatives. There’s a lot of chemicals involved. I love messing with the different ones to see how they can affect the different photos. 

_There’s the chemistry nerd._ “Still a chemist at heart?”

Kuroo turned a genuine smile to Daichi, and his heart suddenly squeezed having the other’s gold eyes solely focused on himself. “I can tell you by name every single chemical used in developers and fixers, what they’re used for, how they’ll affect the photo.”

“At least you don’t feel like your degree is going to waste?”

Daichi startled a moment later because Kuroo _cackled._ A free, open and beautiful sound in all of its hyena resemblance. 

“You’re not–” Kuroo continued to snicker, “You’re not wrong there.”

A lull in silence pulled the air between them. Kuroo’s eyes stayed on Daichi, roved over the bare skin of his arms and up towards his face. 

Daichi decided to blame his warming face on the sun and not because he was blushing– _of course not._

“How are you not sunburned after actual hours in the sun?” Kuroo asked.

“You’re just mad because you burn easily,” Daichi replied with his own teasing grin.

Kuroo’s eyes sparkled. “My skin is delicate, what can I say.”

Daichi got up from his chair, stretching out his arms far above his head, pleased in the way Kuroo watched the movement. Further pleased when Kuroo turned his head away, scarlet rising in his cheeks. He could have just as easily blamed it on the sun too.

_Gods_ , what were they? Fresh teens with a blooming crush?

_Well, kind of,_ Daichi thought to himself as he made way to the railing on the porch. He leaned on it, head on his fist, gazing towards Kuroo. The last bits of the sun were dancing like fairies through the vibrant green trees, gleaming from the afternoon’s ocean.

Kuroo returns his eyes back to Daichi, pulling his camera up to his face. Through the lens, Daichi could feel Kuroo’s even heavier gaze. Like molten gold flowing through the streets of El Dorado. It rushed through Daichi’s nerves, his muscles, his core and very being–as if something else wanted to take his hands and pull him forward to the other man. The warmth of sun rays, and gold eyes, and gold sand, and how beautiful Kuroo, _Tetsu_ , looked in the filter of summer–

He sat up, clearing his throat and stopping wherever that train of thought had him going. Kuroo peaked over the camera with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay there?”

“Sure, sure,” Daichi nodded, rubbing his hands over his face.

He patted Kuroo’s shoulder with a steady hand. 

“Come on,” he said with a soft smile. “There’s a place in town that I love to go to. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Kuroo followed him easily out into down, camera still hanging from his neck. 

Puerto Ayora at night was beautiful. All of the shops and little restaurants had their doors wide open to the steady crowd following the streets. The smells of set food wafted into the salty air, creating one of the most delicious aromas Kuroo could have smelt. 

Daichi ended up taking Kuroo to a little place that was tucked away from pedestrians and night-goers. It was a little deli that served them delicious brick-oven pizzas. Daichi spoke soft Spanish to the woman standing behind the counter, and she smiled brightly in return. She said something quickly to Daichi that made the dark eyed man blush and duck his head a little bit before giving a small smile to Kuroo.

Kuroo raised his eyebrows to the other, then looked back at the woman who had a knowing look on her face. She said another few words to Daichi before giving a wave to Kuroo and then turning to the back of the shop.

“What’d she say?” Kuroo asked, leaning closer to Daichi in the smaller space of the shop.

He cleared his throat, just taking his fingers and wrapping them around Kuroo’s wrist. “Ah, that we looked good together.”

Kuroo’s mind stopped. Halted. Brain? Gone. Thoughts? Dry. He didn’t even breath as Daichi pulled him towards a table.

He blinked at Daichi in quick succession. The warmth from Daichi’s fingers sent a pleasant thrill through his body. “Together? Like? Together-together?”

“Together-together,” Daichi answered, allowing them to sit down. His finger’s left Kuroo’s wrist, but behind there was still a present tingling.

Daichi didn’t say anything else on the matter, only kept the small smile on his face. The slight red in his cheeks hadn’t diminished but remained soft under the warm lights of the deli.

While they waited for their food Daichi told him about how he’d been coming to this place from the start of living there in Puerto Ayora. And how when he had been taking classes in America he had to pick up Spanish as well, because one of his professors had already recommended him to the research center. He continued to talk with animation in his features and movement, dimples pressed into his cheeks. Daichi talked about the time he dived with sharks in the open ocean there in the Galapagos, and how even though he’d dived hundreds of times at the aquariums before there was nothing like swimming with swarms of sharks and marine life all around, without the threat of glass.

Then, it clicked with Kuroo. 

Daichi, like a shark, wanting to swim in the open ocean, getting a taste of the space beyond, far out of reach. But there, allowing Kuroo into his space, into this moment and place of safety. He was steadily reminded of nurse sharks, and how Miyuki had stated that even though the breed of shark appeared to be one of the most docile–they were also one of the highest ranking in number of bites on humans.

_“That’s because people are idiotic. The ocean is not owned by humans, but some of them really think that. Sharks need to come to you, not the other way around.”_

Kuroo smiled at Daichi, while the man took another bite of pizza that had been served in front of them.

  
  


_you will know there’s no more treasure_

_that this patch of sea can give,_

  
  


Kuroo kind of wanted to call it a date. 

But he refused to get his hopes up so soon. Not when they hadn’t discussed what _this_ was yet. Not with the way Daichi’s fingers encircled Kuroo’s wrist and pulled him down the streets, away from the deli, and past not-yet-familiar shops. His fingers, tips and palms worn like the inside of an oyster shell, didn’t leave Kuroo’s skin until they were well past the research center, and down the closest beach. 

“Be careful,” Daichi said, lips curling over his features. “There’s iguanas that like laying on this beach.”

Kuroo sputtered, “Iguanas?”

“Are you scared of lizards, Kuroo-san?”

_Tetsu–_

_Tetsurou–_

Kuroo’s heart squeezed, wishing that Daichi would say his given name again, one more time.

“Only snakes,” Kuroo retorted.

He followed Daichi further down the beach, shoulders brushing one another, though they had a stretch of sand on either side of them. It wasn’t long before Daichi stopped them further down the beach, where the sand stopped to merge with black rocks. A tree had made its home, growing from roots between the rocks so it’s leaves hung over the sand and stretched towards the surf.

Kuroo realizes, as they sit together in the sand, as he’s shifting his fingers in the fine grain beneath his palm–that he wants this.

Whatever Daichi has to offer, he wants.

Wholeheartedly, until the two of them refuse each other.

He has the next few days, and then what? He wants to take his time, wants to understand the man next to him, wants to love him again, and again. Until the universe says no, he will say yes.

He’d loved the man before, and let him go too early. But maybe, just maybe–

“What’s that?” Daichi asked, pulled Kuroo from his thoughts. Kuroo hadn’t even realized he’d pulled out the necklace beneath his shirt and had been running the pads of his thumbs over the indentions.

“Oh, I–” Kuroo fumbled as Daichi reached forward 

Digits barely brushed Kuroo’s neck where the string of the necklace hung. He pulled, pulled, until the shell was brought to light. The purple of the shell was almost a blue under the light from the moon

The necklace. It had come from the shell that Daichi had dived for in Ogasawara where Daichi’s aunt lived. As far as Kuroo was concerned, it’s where she still lived.

The summer before their final year in university, before their graduate applications and lab jobs had kept them apart, Kuroo had been asked by Daichi to go visit with him for a couple weeks. 

Daichi’s aunt who worked at the research center there said it was okay for Daichi to bring a friend, and he’d turned to Kuroo and asked.

It was just a couple weeks. One evening they’d come from the boat, from a deep sea dive, and were sitting out on Daichi’s aunt’s porch. Daichi had with him a bucket of shells they’d found amongst the reefs. Daichi had started describing some of them and their colors and shapes. Like the leopard cones, spider conchs, the few trochus shells they’d found as well. All various shapes, sizes, colors–beautiful in their own oceanic rainbow. 

“Which one is your favorite?” Kuroo had asked, eyes gleaming at the multitude of shells before him.

Daichi had looked contemplative over the shells, before gazing at Kuroo for a moment. He’d pointed to one that appeared lavender in shade amongst the sunset and russet colors of the others. “This is called a semipallium dianae. It’s a clam shell.”

He picked up the shell with deft fingers, holding it to the evening sunlight. A line of light shone through a tiny hole at the bottom of the shell, where it had been pulled away from its other half. “This hole here is where a mollusk of some sort had probably drilled into it, and then pulled the meat inside out.”

Daichi continued to look at it in the light, where the shades of lavender sparkled under the bright sun. “Definitely this one.”

He had proceeded to plop it into Kuroo’s hand, where their finger’s lingered over one another. Daichi had given him a soft smile, and his cheeks were _warm._ And Kuroo at the time had wondered if blushes were contagious because he’d felt giddy inside, and like the red of his muscles had imprinted on his cheeks, along his neck, and over the rest of his body.

_and a head buried in the sand_

_is not a worthwhile way to live_

  
  


Kuroo looked at the same person, who’d aged, but whose smile was still warm and endearing. His eyes were focused on the very same shell that hung around Kuroo’s neck like a lifeline. 

“You kept it?” He asked, tone soft. His fingers brushed over the purple scalloping of the shell. 

“I–” Kuroo was pulled by the necklace, closer to Daichi. Their space interwoven by salt air particles. Kuroo gulped down the air Daichi was breathing into his space. The other’s gaze was still drawn to the purple’s of the shell, thumb running over the bumps

“Ah, Sa’amura–”

“You can call me Daichi,” he whispered into the air. His breath was the salt of the air, the ocean’s caress, and the waves gentle lap over his skin–

“Daichi?” Kuroo said, gazing over the man’s pink lips. They looked like they’d been dipped in Kuroo’s wildest dreams–chewed on by Daichi’s teeth, run over by his tongue and licked, sweet with salt in its purest form.

Daichi visibly gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing, as he continued to hold the necklace with them at a breath’s distance.

Kuroo cleared his own throat, close enough to see those goddamn freckles on Daichi’s cheeks–smattered like paint on a canvas and _wow_ , even when he was on the verge of passing out, he’d been _right._ They looked like seashells, like the particles they made in the sand.

“Again,” Daichi whispered.

“What?”

“My name,” he said, leaning closer, so his lips were _there._ The distance of a coquina shell past between the two of them. “Say my name again.”

“Dai–”

The faintest pressure of warm lips on his own, had him sighing the man’s name.

Soft, sweet, gentle.

New.

It was all he wanted.

  
  


_so pack the things that it has taught you_

_in your chest, pressed to your heart,_

  
  


If they both fell asleep together, wrapped in each other’s arms, then no one was any wiser.

If during the rest of the visit, Kuroo slept in Daichi’s bed, who would say any differently?

And maybe when kuroo was dropped off at the airport, several days later, Daichi walked him inside, carrying his luggage–and left whispers of “see you later” on his cheeks.

  
* * * * *

**Two months later**

* * * * *

  
  


Kuroo had arrived at the airport two hours early. Two hours.

He’d first, panicked because he woke up thinking he was _late_ because he also fell asleep rolling ideas over and over in his mind. Even earlier than that, Daichi had messaged him while he was in layover in Hawaii, saying that he caught another flight instead of having to wait for a later one. So he’d been afraid that he hadn’t reset his alarm for the correct time–since Daichi’s flight was supposed to arrive at 6 a.m. instead of later that day at noon. 

There Kuroo was at 4 a.m., filled to the max on dark roasted coffee, and waiting in the terminal, pacing back and forth, pulling at the necklace around his neck. He tugged on it until he felt it rubbing red on the back of his neck. He’d eventually decided to sit down amongst the few other people that milled about in the early hours. 

They’d talked about it over the phone a few times–them and trying again. Nothing was going to stop them this time. Daichi was taking a temporary job at one of the Tokyo aquariums while he decided on the job in Ogasawara. Daichi said that his aunt would hold the job as long as she could for him, but Daichi hadn’t seemed too concerned.

A buzz in Kuroo’s pocket had him pulling out his phone where he had a couple messages lighting up the screen.

**Akaashi Keiji (￢_￢;) 5:48 a.m.**

_Don’t fuck up this time._

_I’m serious._

Kuroo shook his head, narrowing his tired eyes.

**Me 5:49 a.m.**

_what makes you think im gonna fuck up huh?_

**Akaashi Keiji (￢_￢;) 5:49 a.m.**

_I don’t. But I’d like to not have to switch up groomsmen and who they walk with._

**Me 5:49 a.m.**

_no worries keiji, your wedding is safe._

Kuroo waited another couple minutes before Akaashi sent his next reply.

**Akaashi Keiji (￢_￢;) 5:53 a.m.**

_We talked about this. You talked to Bokuto-san, Kenma, and myself._

_Breath though. You’ll be fine. Contrary to your previous efforts, I don’t believe Daichi-san will let you off as easily as before. And you won’t get this chance again._

Kuroo didn’t get the chance to answer back before they were calling Daichi’s flight over the intercom. He walked back towards the terminal and waited amongst others. He eyed the small crowd, looking for dark pushed back hair, broad shoulders and–

“Tetsu!”

He perked up towards the voice, drawn, turning like a freezing person needing heat and the flame of life.

Daichi stood there, backpack slung over his shoulder, luggage pulled up next to his side.

It took no time at all for Kuroo to meet Daichi across the way, and take the shorter man into his arms. Daichi’s embrace was strong around his waist, his breath ticking Kuroo’s ears, and hair brushing his cheeks.

“There you are,” Kuroo whispered.

Daichi chuckled, “Here I am.” 

“Can I call you my boyfriend now?” Kuroo asked, pulling back to gaze at Daichi.

“Please do,” Daichi said, before pulling Kuroo down by his necklace again, and letting their lips coalesce once more.

* * * * *

_and know for things to drift together_

_sometimes others must drift apart_

* * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's that. hope yall enjoyed. comments and kudos ALWAYS welcome.
> 
> [full poem](https://i.pinimg.com/474x/50/38/4f/50384f120a656e3dbd1d558b64acbf82.jpg) that i used from the second part to the third.
> 
> scream about kurodai and daichi with me???
> 
> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/spacedaichi)
> 
> my [tumblr](https://spookysp-ace.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thank you all for reading :'))

**Author's Note:**

> so i *did* mark this as complete, but in the tags you'll notice i have some ideas for it. i may add chapters here and there that are just as small as this one to give me a little feeling of finishing something. and once again... coding is a bitch and i can't get links to work so...fun,
> 
> here:
> 
> @spookysp-ace on tumblr
> 
> and
> 
> @spacedaichi on twitter (just made this twitter so it has 0 content lol)


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